Against the World

CW: death, cult abuse

Mariah slowly sat up and rubbed her aching head, wincing as she touched a tender spot. It was all coming back to her now. When she was pushed into the cellar, she had lost her balance and crashed headfirst into the rough brick wall. Her last memory was of colored lights flashing across her vision before she passed out. A wave of nausea threatened to engulf her, and she inhaled deeply, holding her breath, until she felt confident enough to open her eyes again. Something was different. A shaft of sunlight was coming through a crack in the wall which tilted at a crazy angle. Either that was her imagination or she was concussed. Rubbing her eyes, she looked again. The whole room had tilted. Scrambling to her feet, she cautiously inched towards the door which was hanging off its hinges. Pushing it aside, she squeezed through. Out of habit, she paused to listen. The only sound in the dank hallway was her own breathing. Emerging into the courtyard, she stopped in her tracks and tried to call out.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

Her voice was barely audible, and her tongue felt thick and dry. Looking around, disoriented, she realized that she was surrounded by piles of rubble where the chapel, the living quarters or the farm buildings had been. The main house where the Master and the Favored Ones had lived was the only structure still standing and it was an empty shell. An acrid smell made her gag as she approached. Peering inside, she could see a tangle of charred beams where the upper floor had caved in. There was utter silence apart from the buzzing of flies inside. The sun was now overhead, and Mariah realized with a pang of sorrow that the large shady trees around the compound had been reduced to splintered stumps. She wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow, suddenly parched. There was no choice but to head for the river.

Trudging past the burned-out skeletons of vehicles, she headed downhill towards the woods. The trees here were still standing although many had lost all their leaves, as if a scorching wind had blasted through. The landscape looked so different that she hoped she was following the right path. With a croak of relief, she heard rushing water and ran towards it. Her secret place was still there. The massive boulders where she liked to sit and think whenever she could sneak away from the compound were unchanged. The water, usually clear, was turbid with sediment, but she scooped it up and drank. When she had slaked her thirst, she washed her face and made her way to a rocky alcove between the boulders.

She shrieked with fright as a tall young man leapt out brandishing a large stone. He dropped it when he saw her.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he said, holding up his hands. “I haven’t seen anyone for days, so I didn’t know what to expect. I’m Jake.”

Mariah eyed him cautiously, torn between relief and suspicion. He was as gaunt and disheveled as she was, but his blue eyes were keen and clear.

“Who are you and what’s happened?” she said. “Our place is wrecked and everyone is gone.”

Jake stared at her.

“What happened? Don’t you know there’s been a war going on?”

He looked at her dirty serge dress and grimy apron.

“Wait. Are you from that weird compound up on the hill where the doomsday people live? Were they so far off the grid that they didn’t know what was happening?”

“We are the True Believers,” said Mariah, sitting down. “The Master forbade the disciples to have communication with the outside world. We were to live apart until the Savior returned and redeemed us from calamity. If the Master knew about a war, he didn’t tell us.”

She stared at him.

"Also, how can there be a war? I haven't seen any soldiers."

“No offense, but that sounds like a lot of hogwash to me, though he maybe got the calamity part right,” said Jake. “How can you believe all that stuff? And as far as war goes, it's not necessarily hand to hand combat these days. It’s missiles and drones and gas fired from miles away."

“My parents joined the community when I was young, so I don’t know anything else,” Mariah said, stifling a sob. “Now I don’t know where anyone is or what happened to them.”

“So, you’re on your own like me,” Jake said, sitting down beside her. “All my folks are gone too, bombed to death. I only survived because my father made me leave and hide in caves he knew of high in the mountains. He knew that the dictator was leading us to disaster. I guess I should have paid more attention, but I thought he was an old bore when he droned on about politics. How did you make it out?”

Mariah gave a bitter laugh.

“I suppose I should thank the Master for putting me in the punishment cellar yet again. It was like a dungeon, no windows or light. I must have been protected from the bomb or gas or whatever did all this.”

“Punishment cellar?” Jake said, staring at her incredulously. “What did you do to deserve that?”

“I wanted to see the world outside. I asked questions. I talked back. No one was supposed to do that, especially the women.”

“I don’t blame you for trying to escape, though I’m sorry for the circumstances,” Jake said. “What’s your name?”

“We weren’t allowed to keep our worldly names when we joined the community. He renamed me Mariah, but my own name is Victoria. My parents called me Vicky,” she said, wiping a tear. Her stomach rumbled.

“Sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I don’t remember when I last ate.”

Pulling a small apple from his pocket, Jake handed it to her, smiling as she devoured it.

“I’ve scavenged some stuff here and there from town and found some wild fruit. Lord knows if it’s contaminated with radiation or chemicals or whatever, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

He broke off as a loud boom reverberated above them. Diving to the ground, he pulled Vicky with him, sheltering her with his body as a sudden sheet of rain blasted them. After a moment he stood up, pushing wet hair off his face, and beckoned. Vickie scrambled to her feet and followed him.

“We'd better take shelter in my cave, Vicky,” he said. “I think that’s just thunder, not planes or drones, but let's get moving.”

“I'm coming,” she said, panting as she tried to keep up. "There have to be other survivors like us. We must keep looking.”

“We will,” he said. “But for now, it’s you and me against the world.”